


Heroes, Hooves, and Hogs

by Brate



Series: Devil on Horseback [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-23
Updated: 2012-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-30 00:43:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brate/pseuds/Brate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old West AU. Dean has some trouble in the woods. Luckily, he has back-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroes, Hooves, and Hogs

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel, of sorts, to "Devil on Horseback."

Casting a wary eye through the trees, Dean Winchester urged his horse forward. Razorback hogs were a pain in the ass—hard to find and harder to kill. He stilled for a moment, listening for Sam, but hearing nothing save the normal sounds of the forest. He hated that they had split up, hated leaving his brother without someone to watch his back. But as Sam had been telling him he _could take care of himself._ Dean didn't necessarily disagree with that, but he also didn't think Sammy should have to. That was a big brother's job.

Bandit shuffled underneath him, reminding him to keep his mind on the job. Dean gave the horse a scratch in appreciation, and resumed scanning for any sign of the creature.

They'd heard about the hog from Joshua and, since they were close by, decided to take care of the problem. The Winchesters had arrived at their current location in the Ozark Mountains four days previously, but hadn't seen hide nor hair of the animal. On the third day they'd baited with some raw meat and sweet apples, which ended in the same result. Now on the fourth they were circling out from the bait pile.

Sam had suggested they separate, and it had made sense to do it, but Dean didn't like having Sam out of his sight and protection. Of course, he hadn't said as much; his little brother probably would've cleaned his plow. It still got his back up that his "little" brother was taller than he was, and looked to be in the middle of another damn growth spurt. At least Dean still had some muscle mass on the Nancy-boy.

He pulled Bandit's reins to the right, starting another circuit, when he spotted something. Dean drew his pistol and dismounted. He got down on one knee at the base of a tree and brushed a hand over the bark. It was a fresh mark—too low to be deer rubbings; the most likely culprit was the hog.

Standing up, Dean saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. Realizing his mistake, he brought up his gun, but the shot went wide as the hog's tusks caught him behind the knees sending him sailing. His flight was abruptly halted by a large dogwood. The last thing Dean saw before losing consciousness was the charging razorback.

~*~*~*~

Sam directed Sinjin through a grove of trees, ducking when a branch threatened to take his head off. He surveyed the forest with trepidation, forcing the butterflies in his stomach to settle. He was the one who had suggested they split up, and Sam wasn't about to go running to his big brother because of a _feeling_. But he wanted to.

Usually, Dean was the one with the gut feelings; he had the true instincts of a Hunter. Sam simply followed along, trailing the facts of a case to its conclusion. But this time something was screaming at him, and he found himself edging Sinjin back to where his brother was patrolling.

Sam wanted to be an equal partner, but Dean was doing exactly what their father had done before: taking the most dangerous parts of the jobs for himself. Sam was tired of fighting against it. He wanted to show his brother he wasn't a kid anymore—he was fifteen years old, for Christ's sake!

When he heard the gunshot, Sam knew he'd been foolish not to listen to his gut. He just hoped Dean wouldn't pay the price for his mistake. He pushed Sinjin as hard as he could through the bramble and underbrush.

Bursting into a small clearing, Sam brought Sinjin up short. He stared at the scene before him: Dean, unmoving on the ground, the razorback hog trying to get to him. But Bandit stood between them, pawing the air, keeping the hog away from his master.

The hog moved to the side, only to meet Bandit's flashing hooves again. It backed away with a loud snort. Sam drew a pistol. He couldn't risk the hog finding a way through the horse's defense. Taking careful aim, he fired his gun, catching the hog on the flank. It didn't come as a surprise when his bullet ricocheted off into the woods. The tough hide of the hog made it nearly impossible to kill, which was why he needed the damn thing to come straight at him.

The hog turned his way, surprised at another adversary. It looked between Dean and his protector before deciding perhaps Sam would be the easier kill. Shrieking loud enough to make Sam's head ache, it charged. If Sam hadn't known how fast the beast could move, he probably would've been bowled over before he could do anything. But he did know, and he also knew he'd only get one chance to kill it.

Tightening his legs around the horse's belly to hold himself in place, he dropped the reins, signaling Sinjin to stand still. He drew his other pistol, letting the bullets fly.

He could only hope his aim was true, that at least one of the bullets would go through one of the hog's eyes and into its brain. It was his only chance of stopping it. If he hit any other place on its body, the bullets would just bounce off its hard hide again, leaving Sam and Sinjin to be its next victims.

The shrieks cut off into eerie silence as the razorback fell.

The animal had barely dropped when Sam leapt off his horse and ran to his brother. Bandit was nudging Dean's shoulder with his nose. Sam gently pushed the horse out of the way, crooning softly to let him know he had done a good job, but now it was Sam's turn to care for his master.

He knelt beside Dean, gently turning him over. Blood dripped down Dean's face and over his right eye. Sam gently wiped it away with his shirtsleeve. Years' worth of a wide range of wounds let Sam feel confident about his diagnosis, guessing Dean would have one hell of a lump and a spectacular bruise, but would be fine. He would let Dean decide whether he wanted stitches or not.

There was no way he was going to try to move him; they may as well stay for the night. Sam's gaze roamed over the hog's corpse. At least they'd eat well.

~*~*~*~

Dean woke to the smell of roasting meat. His head hurt like a son of a bitch, but he should've been feeling a hell of a lot worse. Actually, he should be feeling nothing. The last thing he remembered was the hog bearing down on him. He should've been trampled and gored.

He managed to open his eyes into a squint to see his brother hunched over a fire. "Why ain't I dead?"

Sam turned to look at him, a flash of teeth reflected in the firelight. "Ain't for lack of tryin'." He moved to Dean's side, letting Dean see he was fine while confirming the same about Dean. "I think your horse is as much a fool as his owner."

Maybe he'd hit the tree harder than he'd thought. Sam wasn't making sense. "Huh?"

"I heard your gunshot," Sam said. "By the time I got here, Bandit was doing a hell of a job keeping that thing away from you."

Dean smiled. "That so?" He looked for his horse, and saw him tied next to Sam's at the edge of the clearing. He looked all right, but going up against a razorback.... He had to make sure Bandit wasn't hurt.

Dean rolled over and tried to get up, but he could barely sit up without shards of pain ripping through his chest.

"Ribs?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean grunted an admission. Figured he had a couple broken.

"Anything else?"

Dean silently took inventory then shook his head. "I think that's enough, don't you?" He went to get up again, waiting for Sam to protest and readying his argument. But Sam merely slid an arm under his and helped him up. For once, Dean didn't gripe about the assistance, knowing he'd be hard-pressed to do it alone.

"He's fine," Sam said once he was standing.

"I know," Dean answered, yet needing to see for himself. Sam would understand.

Sam helped even out Dean's stagger, but backed off once he grabbed hold of Bandit's crest. Dean leaned on the horse and ran his hands along the reddish coat, cataloguing scars from old injuries, making sure no new ones had appeared. Through it all, Bandit stood still, knowing what his master needed.

Once Dean was satisfied Bandit was okay, he moved to the front of the animal and rested his forehead on the horse's. Bandit shifted his weight and nickered softly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw the gear Sam had unloaded from the horses. Leaning down to reach in his saddlebag, he almost fell flat on his face when the blood rushed to his head. He fought the dizziness and won. Reaching inside, he brought out his prize: an apple he'd been saving for a special treat for himself. Without a second thought, Dean held it out to Bandit.

"You're gonna spoil 'im." Sam stood next to his own horse, brushing a hand down his dusty coat.

Dean shrugged. "He deserves it."

"That he does," Sam readily agreed.

Not one to let an opportunity pass, Dean flashed a smirk at Sam. "You're just jealous Sinjin didn't throw himself between you and the hell-hog."

Sam's horse snorted loudly, pawing the ground as if he'd understood Dean's derision.

"You may want to watch yourself," Sam said, patting Sinjin's neck. "You're gonna owe m'horse an apology."

Rolling his eyes, Dean leaned against Bandit's neck, whispering in his ear, "You tell your friend I don't mean nothin'. I'm just glad you're mine."

Bandit brought his head to the side and gently nuzzled Dean as if to say, _Me, too_.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for Val, because some things can never be replaced.


End file.
